“I’m all for trying,” Zack chuckled as he followed me upstairs.
Wednesday arrived, the day I’d been dreading. I would have to confess my sins with Zack to Father Brennigan. He wouldn’t be happy. After worrying all day and imagining the play-by-play that was certain to occur, I arrived at the church at five. I waited in line for confession, sweating every torturous second. Finally it was my turn. I entered the confessional and knelt down for judgment.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession.”
“Tell me your sins, child.”
“I only have one, Father.” I paused.
“Very good, my child. Go on.”
“It’s a biggie, Father.” I paused, again unable to utter the words.
“Tell me your sins, child,” Father Brennigan ordered, more firmly this time.
“I am guilty of giving in to the sins of the flesh, Father.” I choked back a sob.
“Am I to understand this sin has already taken place?” The fierceness in his voice was severe.
“Yes, Father. That is what I am confessing.”
Father Brennigan sat motionless for a moment. Then he stood without uttering a word and walked out.
I couldn’t believe he had just walked out of the confessional. Could a priest do that? Just walk out? Weren’t they supposed to give you your penance and then absolve you of your sins? Could a priest just reject you like that—and during confession, no less? I waited in the confessional for a few minutes to see if maybe after Father cleared his head, he would come back. He didn’t. When I heard Mass begin, I got up and left, not only the confessional but also the church. Tears streamed from my eyes and stained my cheeks. As I left I only saw one face on me: Sister Christine’s. She was watching me intently, watching my every move. I was sure she was trying to ascertain the horrid sin I had attempted to confess. The sin that had forced Father Brennigan to leap from his chair to escape my very presence. I didn’t wait for Zack to pick me up; it would be at least an hour before he’d arrive. I just wanted to be alone in the cold night air. I breathed deeply the frozen vapors, freezing my soul in place. I couldn’t face anyone, not right now. The shame was too great.
By the time I reached the dorm I felt a little better, a little stronger. I could breathe a little easier and hold my head a little higher. Then it crossed my mind, a thought so horrible and so blasphemous that I didn’t even want to accept comprehension. But I did. For the first time in weeks, perhaps even months, it was Wednesday and I wasn’t sick. I tried to think of all the things that were different about today. Only the image of Father Brennigan leaving the confessional before granting me absolution kept resurfacing. Over and over I tried to isolate the differences of my day, and over and over the image of Father Brennigan arose. Was that the answer? Could Father Brennigan have something to do with the malevolent happenings at MIQ and St. Matthew’s? My mind raced forward to the argument I’d overheard between Sister Christine and the strange man. Maybe he wasn’t strange at all. Until tonight, I had thought I’d never heard Father Brennigan’s voice angry. But thinking back to my humiliation in the confessional, his voice seemed familiar. Even in all its venomous glory it seemed familiar. Could it have been Father in Sister’s office that day?
I had so many questions and so few answers, but for once my head was clear, unclouded. At around nine o’clock there was a knock on my door. It was Zack. Oh my God. I’d forgotten to call him.
“Liz! Are you in there, Liz?” I heard Zack’s panicked voice call.
“Yes,” I called back, opening the door.
“I went to St. Matthew’s. The nun in charge told me you left, that you didn’t stay for church. Are you okay?”
“Oh, Zack,” I cried, tears and sobs rushing out all at once. “It was horrible. I tried to confess.”
“Confess what, Liz? You’ve never done a bad thing in your life.” Zack rubbed my cheek as he hugged me.
“Confess us. I had to confess our sins. The ones we share together,” I sobbed.
“Oh, Liz. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. We don’t have to do that anymore. Not if it makes you feel this bad.” Zack was sincere, honest in his offer.
“No, Zack, I love being with you. Even if it is a sin, I love it. I chose to sin with you. I can’t take that back, nor do I want to.” I kissed him softly, hoping to heal his breaking heart.
“Then I don’t understand. Why are you upset?”
“Because I confessed. And Father Brennigan refused me absolution. He refused to forgive me. He just stormed out of the confessional.”
“Oh, Liz. He’s just a jerk. You can’t mind him, honey.”
“But he’s my priest. I’m supposed to mind him.” I sobbed some more.
“He’s still human, Liz. Humans make mistakes.”
Zack just held me for what seemed like hours until the light broke through my window.
“I have a great idea,” Zack said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Let’s you and I stay in bed together all day and do nothing together.” He gave me the sweetest grin.
“That actually sounds pretty good. A day off—I like it.” I smiled back. “Oh, but what about Sister Christine? Tonight’s my night to do chores at MIQ.”
“I think after last night she’d understand if you called in sick.” Zack kissed me as he pulled the blankets over our heads.
Just like that, it was decided. We were staying in bed all day together until we could once again face the outside world. I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t frightened. I didn’t even feel guilty anymore. I was warm and safe and happy wrapped in Zack’s embrace. It would be him and me against the world, but at least not for the next few hours.
For the next few weeks, I didn’t see Father Brennigan. He always managed to avoid me. I still went to confession and Mass every Wednesday and kept my work schedule at both MIQ and St. Matthew’s. Even with all the time I spent around there, Father kept his distance. He refused my confessions and had Father Michael sit in. During Communion Father Brennigan would trade places with another Eucharistic minister when he saw me in his line. Every blatant brushoff made my heart seize in agony, in rejection. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t feel guilty any longer. I loved Zack and knew all the way to my soul that what we were doing wasn’t wrong or sinful.
Zack became very supportive. We almost never disagreed anymore. I think he liked having me to himself, or perhaps even more he liked me not being owned by the church. It was never any secret that he’d thought they kept too tight a hold on me. An “unnatural bond,” he’d say. But I didn’t see it as unnatural. It was all I knew. My whole life, St. Matthew’s was the only place I belonged. Now, the moment I strayed the tiniest bit, they turned their back on me. Well, I couldn’t really say “they.” Surprisingly, Mother Superior almost seemed pleased by Father Brennigan’s and my falling out. I just imagined the unhappiness of others gave her great pleasure. But deep down I still had that gnawing feeling. The feeling that I was missing the mark, that Mother Superior wasn’t enjoying my misery but was instead relieved. I couldn’t understand why. I knew it had something to do with all the arguments I’d seen and overheard her having. I knew that whatever the answer might be, it would explain everything—Sister Christine’s haggard appearance, the mystery illnesses sweeping the orphanage, and even my own clouded thoughts. I needed to find the cause but I had no idea where to look. How I wished Brett were here. He was so good at all things stealthy. I just wasn’t. I couldn’t keep a secret to save my life.
For my eighteenth birthday, Caleb kept his promise and threw me an incredible party—at the Tripping Donkey, of all places. All three of my friends were there, Caleb, Lucy, and my one and only Zack. Of course, with Caleb planning the party, there were many, many more partygoers besides. I just didn’t know them all. It looked as though most of the college had showed up. Caleb even hired a live punk band. Lucy and Zack had picked me up at the dorm, blindfolded me, and driven me to the party. My
heart was in my throat with excitement and nervousness. They walked me to the door. I could hear the music and laughter from inside before I even went in. When Zack removed my blindfold, I was amazed by the elaborateness of the whole celebration. As soon as I walked in, Caleb was waiting for me with open arms.
“Happy eighteenth, Liz!” he hollered over the clamor.
“Oh my God, Caleb. This is incredible!” I said excitedly.
“I told you parties were my thing. And if I remember correctly, I owed you a big to do for your birthday. Since you’re dating my best friend and all.” He smirked, reminding me of the time I’d sworn I would never have anything to do with Zack.
“Oh, Caleb, when am I ever going to learn not to doubt you?” I smiled and gave him a huge hug. “Thank you. This is more than I ever could have imagined.”
“No problem, Liz. It’s time you start living it up.”
“I thought I already was.” I laughed, kissing Zack on the cheek.
Zack nudged Caleb. “Hey, man, the band’s a nice touch.”
“Yeah, I thought so. The drummer, Taylor, is a friend of mine. He sort of owed me a favor.”
I looked over at the stage and saw a taller, thin-framed boy wearing all black. He had light brown hair with red spikes and was sitting behind a bright red drum set that matched his hair perfectly. As I glanced over at him, he raised his left arm with drumstick in hand and pointed right at me. The band then broke into the wildest rendition of “Happy Birthday” I think anyone had ever heard. I was so embarrassed and honored all at the same time. I was important enough to my three best friends for them to go to all this effort just for me. The only thing that was missing was Kelly and Brett, and they were all the way in California.
Caleb, Lucy, and Zack made my eighteenth birthday completely magical. Never in my wildest dreams could I have even hoped for a night like this. Sharing my first birthday party with Zack made me think of last year, sitting in MIQ’s courtyard with Brett in front of my first birthday cake. The cake Zack brought me was stunning. It was more lavishly decorated and larger than my first cake, although there was still something to be said about the understated, pale pink frosting flowers of Brett’s cake. But this was my first birthday party, and like my many firsts I shared with Zack, it was more than a little enjoyable.
My eighteenth birthday was one of the most important days of my life so far. First, no longer being a minor, I was legally free of MIQ and St. Matthew’s. Neither Father Brennigan nor Sister Christine could ever make me go back. The worst they could do was to revoke my scholarship. Second, my birthday with my friends showed me that I would never again be alone. Now I had true friends I could trust. And more importantly, I had someone who loved me. I had Zack.
Shadow Stalkers
The sense of security and closeness I’d discovered at the party lingered. For nearly my whole life, I’d only ever felt safe and secure behind the protective gates of Mary Immaculate Queen. There change never attempted to breach our day-to-day lives. On the odd occasion that change did overtake the sacred routine, uneasiness and anxiety always took hold of me. Just like attention, I was not good with change, either. Until now, the only times I felt safe amid uncertainty was in Brett’s strong arms as his embrace fought to keep me in one piece. Now it was different. Change surrounded me every day in my new life. Yet I remained unscathed, safely protected by the love of my dear friends and my one true love, Zack. I felt invincible and I loved it, craved it. How was I to know that everything would go so wrong so quickly?
Being eighteen now, I no longer feared being incarcerated by Mother Superior. I knew that I would never again live behind the iron gates of MIQ. While I enjoyed this thought very much, the fact still remained that I was in desperate need of my scholarship from St. Matthew’s. So, with the ultimate goal of a college education in mind, I faithfully followed the schedule that had been assigned to me so many months before—with a few customizations. By day I attended all my scheduled classes and maintained a perfect GPA. In the evenings, Sunday through Thursday, I continued to help out at MIQ and St. Matthew’s. Every night I spent sinfully in Zack’s arms. My life felt full and complete. I remained responsible and faithful to my upbringing while being true to myself and my desires.
I thought I had found a perfect balance, although part of me did ache inside from Father Brennigan’s absence. Father continued to be detained from church on my designated days. He still refused me confession and Communion at Wednesday Mass. If our paths did happen to cross, he immediately diverted his eyes. When confronted by his disappointment, I would feel a pang of guilt shoot through me, a feeling so intense that I was constantly amazed to find none of my vital organs had been pierced by the disapproving bullet.
Without the hazy thoughts that a visit to Father’s confessional had always brought me, I was able to really see life for the first time. Maybe I noticed a little too much. Zack was continually reminding me to “stay grounded.” He would say that my newly released mind, free from its life of captivity, was prone to “flights of fancy.” Maybe I did let my thoughts run away with me once in a while, but I didn’t think I was insane. Deep down my new lucidity only gave rise to more questions about the secrets of MIQ and St. Matthew’s. Zack would tell me it was all behind me and I should let it go. But it was hard to do when the gnawing feeling in my stomach was now more persistent than ever, a constant reminder of secrets waiting to be discovered.
One night Zack brought me back to First Street for dinner. It was his way of trying to apologize for ruining my first visit there with his furious rant spurred on by the crazy chanting of the homeless man. Zack was sweet like that. He knew I had forgiven him almost immediately, but even months later, the thought that he had spoiled something new and exciting for me ate away at him. This was his chance to atone for his own sins. I laughed at the thought. Zack was so nonreligious, but his values were still the same. I imagined what a good guilt-ridden Catholic he would have been if his upbringing were more like mine.
The café Zack brought me to was adorable. It looked like a fifties’ diner, all decked out in red and white vinyl and complete with roller-skating waitresses. I giggled uncontrollably at the novelty. “Oh, Zack! This is perfect. I’ve never seen anything like it. I love it.”
“I knew you would,” Zack confirmed, proud that his efforts had paid off.
“This is so much fun. Let’s make this our spot, okay?” I begged, hugging his arm.
The very agile and graceful waitress skated us to our booth. I slid in and Zack slid in next to me. I adored sitting so close to him. Actually, I treasured any closeness that Zack and I shared. The waitress soon brought our cheeseburgers and fries. We ate and laughed as we took in all the sights. It was a perfect night until Zack got serious.
“Liz, I’m really glad you’re having such a good time,” he said tentatively.
“Thanks, I think. Are you okay?” I asked, fearing the answer.
“Yeah, I just have to tell you something. I’ve kinda been putting it off.”
“Are you breaking up with me?” I asked, feeling the tears well up in my eyes.
Zack became agitated. “No! Liz, that’s not it at all.”
“Well, then tell me what it is. Quick, before I guess again,” I pleaded.
Zack laughed. “There’s your mind again, running off with itself.”
“This isn’t funny, Zack. Just tell me already!” I demanded, more fearful than angry.
“Okay, all right. Winter break is coming up…”
“Yeah, so?”
“I have to go home and visit my family. I’m going to have to be away from you, Liz.” His voice was full of sorrow.
“Is that all?” I asked, relieved.
“Yes, but I don’t share your relief. We haven’t spent more than a day apart the whole time we’ve been together. I don’t know how I’m going to sleep without you next to me.”
“Oh, Zack.” I smiled at his sincerity and softness. “It’s only a couple of weeks. I thought
you were breaking up with me forever. A couple of weeks seems like nothing now.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
We sat and finished our meal, talking about the passing people and a wobbly waitress who looked like she was new. Another Zack crisis had been averted. A couple of weeks without him, I could survive. It made me think, though. I wondered if Caleb and Lucy would leave for break also. If they did, it would be the first time I’d been alone since starting school. The thought made me a little anxious.
Zack and I left “our spot” and casually strolled up and down First Street the way we should have the first time we came. I thought First Street was even prettier at night with all the shops and streetlights lit up. A yellow glow encompassed the street for blocks, making it appear like one of those quaint little snow globe towns. Part of me expected the whole thing, us included, to be picked up and shaken. I closed my eyes and waited for the imaginary snow to fall. The whole night felt magical. Much of my time spent with Zack felt magical. He had a gift for that.
We continued to walk until we stopped one shop away from a little Italian restaurant.
“Look, Zack. Look who that is!” I exclaimed.
“Who? Liz, I don’t see anyone.”
“Right there! Walking out of the restaurant.” I pointed, trying to help Zack see what I was looking at.
“Liz, I don’t know who you’re looking at. I see two guys wearing a lot of black. So?”
“Zack, that’s Father Brennigan and Bishop McCallahan,” I explained.
“So? They’re allowed to go out to eat. I mean, aren’t they?”
I forgot how not Catholic Zack was. “No, of course they are. That’s not it. Bishops don’t just go out to dinner with parish priests. It has to mean something.”
A large black Lincoln Town Car pulled up and Father Brennigan and Bishop McCallahan got in.
“See, look, they’re even leaving together.”
“Liz, this isn’t one of your conspiracy things again, is it?”
Sinful Purity (Sinful Series) Page 18
